


Bah Humbug!

by Jae_Y



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Christmas, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Card Writer! Dimitri, I know its the middle of February, Lawyer! Felix, M/M, Sylvain as Syl-something, shhhhhhh, when felix has nothing nice to say he frowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29376147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jae_Y/pseuds/Jae_Y
Summary: The dates on a calendar are just that to Felix Hugo Fraldarius: dates.They’re just numbers arranged in front of more numbers. He doesn't understand why certain numbers printed on a calendar are heralded with overpriced flowers or carved pumpkins and especially mistletoe.(In which Felix doesn't believe in celebrating Christmas and he says this to Dimitri, who writes Christmas cards for a living.)
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20





	Bah Humbug!

**Author's Note:**

> It’s not Christmas. I’m aware. But my extended break from November last year has caused me to just lose track of time, and I don’t even remember Christmas happening.
> 
> I'm still on break now.

* * *

_Bah Humbug: a phrase used to express a great dislike of something generally regarded as enjoyable. Particularly, Christmas._

\---

The dates on a calendar are just that to Felix Hugo Fraldarius: dates.

They’re just numbers arranged in front of more numbers. He doesn't understand why certain numbers printed on a calendar are heralded with overpriced flowers or carved pumpkins and _especially_ mistletoe.

“This is the first time I’ll be missing Christmas, and my parents are really disappointed. They didn’t think I’d be this busy. _I_ didn’t think I’d be this busy,” the new lawyer says with a sigh, his elbows resting on top of a thick pile of legal papers.

Felix forces himself to glance up from his file. New lawyers are either over-enthusiastic or sentimental when it comes to working on days other people consider ‘holidays’, and it looks like he’s stuck with a ridiculously sentimental one this year. This new lawyer has a name, one that Felix is having a hard time recalling because of all the white noise this said lawyer insists on making. Syl…something.

“I work best when it’s quiet,” Felix says pointedly, and Syl-something stops talking.

“Right,” he says and Felix promptly returns to his legal documents. The office is pleasantly silent and, he loses himself in a particular section until a weird sort of noise jolts him from his work. It’s jingly and static-y, like electronic bells, and there’s a rustle of more sounds from Syl-something’s side of the office.

“Sorry,” he says, flustered, “it’s the Christmas alarm on my phone. Merry Christmas!”

And it is during moments like this that Felix will never cease to wonder why he did not choose to study criminal law instead. It would’ve been extremely useful in defending himself in court after being charged with the assault of a man who insists on listening to obnoxious festive tunes.

\---

Felix has a list of very specific goals in life:

  1. Get hired by a top law firm.
  2. Buy a forty-inch television with cash.
  3. Make his first million by thirty.
  4. Retire by forty-five.



He has already crossed the first two off his list, thanks to cups and cups of black coffee, copious amounts of law journals and twelve-hour days at the firm. He knows the other two will be crossed off with nothing more than extra cups of black coffee, because he cannot read case files any faster or legally work any longer. His seniors call him intense, but Felix likes the comparison because it makes him think of the way he likes his coffee. They all clap him on the back and shake his hand proudly, but Felix finds that they mix with him as oil does with water.

In the beginning, they had asked Felix to join them for lunch, but there are stacks and stacks of papers on his desk, papers that will not read or sign themselves. When Felix turned them down for the third time, the invitations stopped, and the whispers started. He doesn’t mind at all, however, because now that no one at work bothers to talk to him, he has more time alone, and in turn, more time to make more money.

Which is why he considers protesting when the firm decides to replaster his office.

“They’ll come in during lunch every day for about a month,” a senior partner tells him apologetically, “but you can go to that coffee house down the street. It’s quiet and they have really good coffee.” It’s the brittle smile the man gives him that changes Felix’s mind, and so he wordlessly starts to clear his desk.

The coffee shop is small but there are heavy, plush chairs in every corner and the air is thick with the scent of roasted coffee. Felix slips into the only empty chair he can find and unbuckles the clasp on his briefcase. A little change in his surroundings won’t stop him from getting the job done.

“Hi! I’ve never seen you around here before,” a friendly voice comes, sometime later, from the next table and Felix turns to his side to see someone staring back at him. Their tables look almost identical: one cup of dark coffee surrounded by sheets of papers and files and pens and highlighters. His eyes are curious, mouth upturned into a smile, but Felix stays silent. “You work with that law firm down the road, right? Many of the lawyers come down to have lunch here but this is the first time I’ve seen you around.”

Felix nods curtly. To his dismay, the conversation does not end there. Instead, the smile beaming from the opposite table brightens significantly.

“I’m Dimitri, and I’m a greeting card writer,” he says, gesturing to the stationery on his table.

Instead of turning away and getting back to his stack of papers or brushing the stranger off, Felix frowns. “Jobs like that still exist?”

“Yes,” Dimitri says innocently, causing Felix’s frown to deepen. “The words inside the cards you buy don’t write themselves.”

“I don’t buy cards.”

“Not even Christmas cards?”

“What is this, the 1990s?”

Dimitri is unfazed. “The sales of Christmas cards rise every year. It’s actually more widespread than you think.”

Felix turns around, gathering all the loose papers on his table into a pile and placing them back in his briefcase in one swift movement. He takes a look at his watch as he stands; it was about time that a lunch break would end. “I don’t believe in Christmas,” he walks out of the café, leaving behind a too-friendly stranger who spends his days thinking up of cheesy messages to put inside ridiculously sentimental pieces of paper.

 _I don’t understand people,_ Felix thinks as he makes his way back to the office. In the café, a certain Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd ponders the exact same thing.

\---

Felix sits on his plush couch in his office, magazine in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. An analysis he had written for a recent case has just been published. He stares at the decent cheque with a satisfied smile on his face; another small but significant step closer to goal number three.

He gathers the scraps from his mail pile and moves to throw them in the recycling bin when he notices he missed one more piece of mail on his desk. The cream envelope is far too small and square-shaped to be considered as a document his clients would send over, but it seems too formal for junk mail.

The plain, sensible way his name is printed on it piques his interest and so he peels the envelope flap open, only to frown at the card that slips out. On the front is a cartoonish deer with a shiny red nose and antlers entwined with fairy lights in a cacophony of colours and sparkles.

There’s also a printed message on the inside:

_Merry-One-Month-Before-Christmas!_

_\- Dimitri_

Felix can’t decide which is more disturbing: that a greeting card writer he’d spoken less than five sentences to has managed to find out his name, or the fact that he can hear Syl—something’s Christmas alarm resound in his head as he stares at the card. He shakes his head lightly and drops the card into his recycling bin while pulling out a file from his desk drawer.

Aside from his cheque, the 25th of November is just another normal day working at the firm.

\---

Felix almost expects to be sent more cards, but when he finds his desk clear of fancy, colourful envelopes the next day, he promptly forgets about Dimitri, because calendar dates matter little to him. He’s glad he has sensible things like this to concentrate on, unlike other people with their “important” celebrations and holidays. Like, how much he’s billing in every hour, and how much money sits in his account, and how much he’s making on interest.

And the Dimitri Incident would have completely faded from Felix’s memory, and it does until he bumps into him one morning on his way to work. Literally.

Felix slams into someone’s shoulder and stumbles backwards, landing on the curb. His briefcase skids a few feet away from him towards the figure.

“Sorry!” the person says, picking up the briefcase and handing it to Felix, who sighs heavily. “Oh hey, I remember you!” He stops smoothing down the front of his suit at this and looks up to find Dimitri smiling down at him.

“Oh,” Felix says flatly, “it’s you.”

“Remember me? I sent a card to your office a week or so ago. Did you receive it?” There’s something ridiculously bright and energetic about Dimitri that Felix had felt from the moment he spoke back at the café, and the way he towers over as he asks Felix just makes it feel even more so. Perhaps he can liken Dimitri to an excited puppy seeing snow for the first time.

Felix is a cat person.

“If I don’t celebrate Christmas, what makes you think I would celebrate the month before it?” Felix deadpans, inspecting his briefcase. One of the corners has scuff marks, courtesy of it skidding across the pavement. He frowns.

Dimitri’s face falls a little, and there’s something about it that makes Felix frown deepen for a different reason. “It was something my team came up with, so I sent some around to test the responses…” Dimitri chuckles, “You’re the first one who didn’t like it.”

Felix gives him a noncommittal half-shrug before turning around to walk away. He makes it a couple of steps before Dimitri has a hand on his shoulder, and Felix almost stumbles backwards again.

“Uh,” Dimitri begins, drawing his hand away quickly, “I know it’s none of my business… but do you ignore Christmas as a day because you have no one to celebrate with?”

Felix stares bemusedly at Dimitri, at his argyle pullover and brown shoulder bag. Dimitri’s eyes are piercing, looking back at him with a look he can only describe as concern with a mix of apprehension and understanding. It’s a strange, strange look and Felix cannot frown any harder.

Felix sighs. “I don’t celebrate Christmas because I have better things to do.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Like what?”

“Making money,” Felix replies, swinging his briefcase in his hand. “Reviewing documents. Fulfilling my goals.”

“But you didn’t answer my question. Do you have anyone to celebrate Christmas with?”

It occurs to Felix he’d be spending the whole day arguing about something as pointless as this. So, he gestures at his watch, and turns around to walk away. This time, Dimitri does not stop him.

Objectively, it’s just another normal working day at the firm for Felix. He spends his day with files, papers and law review journals, and has a quick lunch comprising of two cups of coffee. He is uninterrupted the whole day; even those replastering his office ended up calling in sick for the day.

And yet, he finds Dimitri’s question floating about in his head, insistent and highly distracting.

\---

“You know where I live now?” Felix asks in disbelief.

Dimitri offers a feeble smile, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to seem so creepy,” he says, reaching into his shoulder bag, “and I’m not stalking you.” He holds out a plain black book. “You dropped your planner when we bumped into each other yesterday.” Felix peers at it for a long moment before he slowly takes it.

“Thanks…” he replies awkwardly, because he doesn’t quite know how to deal with Dimitri, who is open and bright and rather considerate. Everything he, well, isn’t.

“The Christmas spirit’s already in the air,” Dimitri says brightly, and Felix blinks because he _really_ doesn’t know how to respond. Dimitri’s smile falters and again, something sinks in Felix’s chest. “Since it’s Friday night, would you like to go out for a drink?”

“No,” Felix says without missing a beat.

“Busy?” Dimitri asks, both tone and gaze sceptical.

“Always.”

Conversation over, case closed; back to multitasking between drafting a trust and watching McGregor VS Poirier on his bright forty-two-inch television, but Dimitri doesn’t seem to agree. In one swift, daring move, he reaches out and pulls at Felix’s hand, causing the lawyer to stumble out the doorway of his apartment.

“I could sue you for that,” he says disbelievingly, rubbing his wrist because _jeez just how strong is he?!_ Felix is sullen, but he makes no move to walk back inside and slam the door, probably because Dimitri looks equally taken aback at himself. He’s seemingly at a loss for words, and for once Felix feels comfortable around the man. He enjoys watching people suffer in silence, because they’re awkward and they squirm, and Dimitri does awkward surprisingly well.

“Well, since you’re already out…” Dimitri points out, and Felix sighs, loud enough for it to echo in the hallway. He locks his door and brushes past Dimitri, heading for the stairs. It takes a moment before the other gets the memo and follows behind him.

Who knows what he’d do next if Felix said no again? Maybe he’d wait for him outside his office. Or break into his apartment.

Or maybe he’d hire him as a lawyer.

\---

They’re at a bar four blocks from his apartment. It’s a nice place with smooth, dark oak tables that serves frothy beers. There’s also a stage at the front, where people take turns to stumble onto for the microphone. Dimitri orders tall mugs of beer for both of them while Felix finds a table near the windows because it’s the furthest from the stage, where two men are singing their drunken hearts’ out.

“Do you sing?” Dimitri asks, gaze fixed on the stage.

Felix wraps his fingers around the ice-cold glass and shakes his head. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Prove it,” Felix says before he can catch himself and across him, Dimitri looks faintly amused.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I need evidence before I believe in something,” Felix picks up his mug and takes a sip. The beer is creamy and light; surprisingly good for a place that encourages people to butcher songs and make their patrons sit through it.

Dimitri stands. “Okay,” he says simply, making his way towards the front. Felix picks up his glass and settles back in his chair. He believes the word to describe what he’s preparing for is ‘schadenfreude’.

By the time Dimitri’s up at the front, the two men have staggered off the stage. Then Dimitri has a mic in his hand, and he stares at Felix, right over the heads of the other patrons because _of course_ _he can_.

Then Dimitri just starts singing. There’s no backing track, and Felix only vaguely hears the chatter of the crowd, the occasional dull thud of glass on wood over Dimitri’s soft and clear voice. Goosebumps make their way across his skin, blooming involuntarily, and he clenches his hand around the glass to ground himself. The song is Christmassy and slow and vaguely familiar, but there’s something about the way Dimitri sings it that makes sure that Felix never looks away. When Dimitri finishes, indicated by a small, awkward bow before he puts the mic back in its stand, people actually applaud, and Felix finally exhales.

Dimitri walks back quickly, head bowed and cheeks flushed, but all smiles. “What song was that?” Felix asks, as Dimitri settles back into his seat across him.

Dimitri laughs. “The First Noel!”

Felix shrugs. “At least I knew it’s a Christmas song.”

Dimitri chuckles, beaming, “So, do you believe me now?” And Felix nods coolly, trying to ignore the still-lingering goosebumps.

“Now, all I have to do is show you Christmas is worth celebrating,” he then says, and Felix finds himself smirking.

“Good luck with that.” He raises his glass. Dimitri clinks his glass up against his, determined.

\---

Felix wakes up on Saturday morning with the sun pouring in past the blinds. It’s ten-thirty, and he can’t remember the last time he’d woken up this late, ever. He doesn’t know whether to be miffed or surprised.

On Sunday, he spots an envelope slotted under his front door as he makes his way to the kitchen and he doesn’t even need to wonder who it’s from. This time, the card is red, with a cheery-looking elf smiling back at him. It’s green on the inside and Felix thinks about clashing colours and Christmas.

_Same time next week?_

_Yes/Yes_

\---

“You’re really not funny, you know,” Felix tells Dimitri the same time next week, and Dimitri nudges him.

“You’re smiling, though.”

“It’s a mocking smile.”

“It’s a smile nonetheless,” Dimitri says cheerfully, and Felix cannot stop smiling no matter how hard he tries to frown.

\---

“Why don’t you believe in Christmas?”

They’re sitting on a bench in the dark, in the middle of a park Dimitri insisted on taking him to. His voice trembles slightly from the cold.

“It’s an excuse for companies to cash in,” Felix replies, “especially greeting card companies.”

“Says the person who wants to do nothing but build his fortune,” Dimitri replies without missing a beat, words condensing in the air before Felix’s eyes.

“Well, there’s a difference between making money from the willing, and capitalizing from the emotions of the masses.”

Dimitri stares at him curiously. “You don’t sound like the cold, ruthless lawyer I remember.”

Felix shrugs and steers the conversation to something else. “Would you tell me what we’re doing here? I didn’t expect to be frozen to a bench when I agreed to follow you out.”

“Five more minutes,” Dimitri stands abruptly and tightens the scarf around his neck. “But we can start walking home now.”

Felix stuffs his hands as deep into the pockets of his coat as possible. “Home?” Dimitri hums.

“Back to my place. I’ve got a surprise for you,” and before Felix can complain or make a break for it, Dimitri links their arms together and half-drags the lawyer, in the chilly air, towards his apartment.

For a moment, Felix contemplates tackling Dimitri to the ground and bolting back to his own place, but then he considers the threat of a lawsuit and the payout to follow. Besides, Felix doesn’t know if he’d even be able to best the oversized puppy and his ridiculous strength. So he follows, his protests forming tiny clouds around them.

They walk past brightly lit shops and bundled-up people. Dimitri nods and smiles at all of them while Felix tries his best to not meet the eyes of any of them. “I’ve got hot chocolate back home if you’d stop complaining,” Dimitri says as he drops several coins into a bright red bucket. The person standing near it, dressed in a ridiculous Santa costume cheerily calls out for them to “Have a Merry Christmas!” as the two of them trudge forward. Felix shuts up.

Countless smiles to random strangers (on Dimitri’s part) later, they arrive at Dimitri’s apartment. It’s a tiny studio apartment and Felix gapes, not at its size in comparison to the man, but…

“You don’t own a television,” he says bewildered as Dimitri walks out of the half-kitchen, two steaming mugs in hand.

“I don’t own a television,” He replies simply, and Felix shakes his head.

“How do you watch things, then? Like the news… or the UFC?”

“I don’t,” he says before sipping his drink, eyes bright over the mug.

Then, the doorbell sounds, and Dimitri thrusts the mug into Felix’s free hand. The hot liquid slops over the rim, almost spilling, and Felix narrowly avoids dropping it while Dimitri pulls open the door. He turns around to grin at Felix. “Carollers,” he says happily.

The carollers sing several songs, all bright, Christmassy tracks Felix doesn’t know. Dimitri sits by Felix’s side with their drinks, breath tickling his cheek as he whispers the titles into his ear every now and then.

They don’t sing half as well as Dimitri, Felix thinks as they finish their last song, but he claps anyway, because Dimitri looks at him expectantly as he applauds. The carollers are sent off with huge paper cups of hot chocolate, and a Christmas card each while Felix sits there, pleasantly warm and comfortable on Dimitri’s couch.

“It’s not always mindless commercialisation,” Dimitri says softly, settling down next to Felix. The lawyer doesn’t speak, because they’re sitting so close their knees are touching.

And maybe, just maybe, beginning to believe is easier than Felix had imagined.

\---

_However._ Beginning to believe is not the same as truly celebrating Christmas.

Felix has no plans to take the twenty-fifth off and he still works twelve-hour days and downs countless cups of coffee. That is, until he finds a cream envelope at his apartment, his name printed in Dimitri’s handwriting on the front. It’s fairly heavy in his hands and he bites back a smile, because this is almost routine now.

When Felix slits it open, a card and tiny, tiny glittery shards of green and red and gold fall from the envelope. He blinks at all the confetti on his hands and across his carpeted floor and frowns.

_Did you know there’s a special ingredient that makes Christmas magical, wonderful and fun…_

Felix can almost feel cavities form as he reads, and the confetti stuck to his hands are beginning to make him antsy, but he opens the card, nonetheless.

_…You!_

_And this is why you are cordially invited to my apartment on Christmas Eve (24th December) for dinner._

_Take Christmas Day off, because it’s about time you did._

_P.S. I hope you like confetti!_

Felix finds out later how difficult it is to remove confetti out of carpet, because when he walks on certain spots days later, the confetti glistens up at him innocently, reminding him of the invitation, Christmas and Dimitri.

\---

Dimitri calls Felix on the twenty-third.

“You’re coming, right?”

“Wouldn’t you of all people have tons of Christmas parties to attend?”

“My parents are on a round-the-world cruise and they’re spending Christmas in Scandinavia,” says Dimitri, “and I did get invited to several Christmas parties, but I didn’t think you would have liked to come along. They’re uh, very loud and festive.”

Felix stares out the window for several seconds, puzzled. “And you’re not going to those parties because you’re hosting one for me instead?”

“Yes,” comes Dimitri’s merry reply and Felix feels a peculiar warmth from that. “Didn’t you read my card? That one special ingredient…“

“How could I forget?” Felix grimaces, and Dimitri laughs.

“And I mean it. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The line dies and for the first time, Felix is aware that to him, it means nothing more than cheesy words on a piece of paper but it’s different for Dimitri, who believes in each and every one of those words he prints inside a card.

\---

It snows on the twenty-fourth and Felix stands outside Dimitri’s door, moving from foot to foot as he tries to keep the warmth in his bones.

“You’re on time,” Dimitri says, pleased, as he swings open the door and Felix slips past him into the warm apartment like a bat out of hell.

“You’re lucky I made it here alive,” he grumbles darkly, thawing himself in front of the heater.

“Come on, it’s Christmas Eve, Felix. Don’t be so grumpy.” Dimitri hands him a mug of hot chocolate which Felix eagerly accepts.

A comfortable silence falls over the apartment as Felix sips at his drink while Dimitri is busy arranging plates on the table behind him. The walls are decorated with wreaths, there's tinsel lining the windows, and a row of colourful cards have been clipped to a string hanging above Dimitri’s bed. It all suddenly hits him; where he is and why, and it’s a little overwhelming, and he finds himself wanting to look for Dimitri. He peers overthe couch to see a roast duck on the table, crispy and golden.

“That doesn’t look like a turkey.”

“They ran out of turkey at the restaurant, so I had to improvise.” Dimitri replies simply, beckoning him over. “Time for your first Christmas dinner!”

It turns out to be a perfectly ordinary dinner, except quiet Christmas music plays in the background and Dimitri tells a more-animated-than-usual story, about how one of the printers broke down yesterday and the chaos that ensued. Felix talks about the confetti in his carpet, which makes Dimitri beam; “My plan exactly.”

They eat duck with onigiri and miso soup, alongside a smattering of mashed potatoes and roasted carrots. Felix points it out as being untraditional. “It’s the thought that counts,” Dimitri replies, popping another piece of duck into his mouth before picking up a carrot.

“You’re as cheesy as the cards you write,” Felix scoffs.

"Thank you, kind sir." Dimitri chuckles past a mouth full of food.

It’s the best Christmas dinner Felix could have asked for. Not that he would ask for one willingly. But if he _had_ to attend a single Christmas dinner, it would be Dimitri’s.

Barely an hour later, Dimitri has Felix sitting on his bed, a spare blanket wrapped around his shoulders as they watch Christmas movies on the small screen of Dimitri’s laptop. They’re both lying on their stomachs, propping themselves up on their elbows. There’s a comfortable weight leaning against Felix’s side and whenever Dimitri inhales, it shifts.

“This is why you should get a TV. My eyes hurt,” Felix grumbles sleepily in the middle of _How The Grinch Stole Christmas_ and Dimitri shushes him by poking his thigh with an ice-cold foot. He doesn’t remember exactly when he falls asleep, but he does remember how: it’s the combination of the cozy, thick blanket, the soft dialog on the screen and the heat radiating from next to him, warm skin against skin.

Some time later, a gentle hand on his shoulder rouses him from sleep, and a blurry shape that has to be Dimitri stares at him, mouth pressed in an amused smile. “It’s twelve fifteen. Merry Christmas!” he says quietly, barely audible over the voices and background music of the movie.

Felix is too sleepy to process the words fully, and he says an automatic “Merry Christmas,” before falling asleep again.

\---

Felix wakes up to Christmas morning on Dimitri’s bed as a blanket-burrito. The sky is just beginning to brighten as he sits up to survey the place. He finds Dimitri fast asleep, limbs splayed across the couch several feet away, and Felix finds it rather endearing.

Felix looks beside him to find a card next to his pillow. Reluctantly, he frees his arms from the blanket and peers at the card. It’s all bright, with prancing reindeers and wrapped presents with royal blue ribbons printed across the front. But he grows wary when he picks it up and finds that it’s heavier than usual, considering how a lot of the last one has made itself feel right at home in his carpet. He is relieved, however, once he opens it.

A familiar voice singing a familiar song fills the apartment and Felix startles, snapping the card shut. It’s too late though, because Dimitri stirs, hair messy as he sits up. “Your Christmas present,” he mumbles, words heavy with sleep.

The singing starts over when he reopens the card, and it lasts long enough for Dimitri to rise to his feet and climb onto the bed, sitting next to Felix. “I know this song,” Felix says, partly incredulous, partly proud, thinking back to his first time in this apartment. Of the warm mug of hot chocolate and the carollers and Dimitri whispering in his ear—

Felix colours at the thought.

Dimitri smiles a peculiar sort of smile, cheeks pink from the chilly morning air, and he looks as though he has something monumental to say, but all he says are three painfully sincere words:

“Merry Christmas, Felix.”

**Author's Note:**

> Some extra things about the fic (a behind-the-scenes if you will)
> 
> \- I looked up a list of Christmassy phrases and buzz words to help me come up with a title. Water shot out of my nose when I saw "Bah Humbug" for the first time, so how could I not pick it?
> 
> \- A self-indulgent head canon of mine is that Dimitri is musically inclined in some way, be it through practicing dancing and learning about the arts as royalty, or he just has a knack for it. His voice, particularly in Japanese, has a very warm timbre to it, so I think he’d sing pretty well, albeit he’d be super quiet. 
> 
> \- Over this break I’ve also been replaying FE3H, and just recently got into Ace Attorney after buying the trilogy on Switch. My Wrightworth and Dimilix brain rot seems to have mixed in my dreams, because I saw Felix in a suit with a briefcase yelling “objection, fuckhead!” and “I’ll strangle you with my cravat if you don’t shut the fuck up.” and I just knew I wanted to write about it. 
> 
> \- I’m not too well-versed in fencing or larping or other sword-fighting equivalents in a modern setting to be able to write them in as hobbies of Felix. And I thought writing in him having a sword collection or something would be a bit strange given the premise of the fic. But after watching Poirier massacre McGregor’s leg while writing this, I could totally imagine him being into watching the UFC.
> 
> \- I tried listening to music while writing to get me back into writing after not doing it for ages (it's been two years since I posted my first fic holy crap-), and I’d say it worked out pretty alright. Yvette Young, John Angus Watson and Hoppipolla really bring about this warmth and comfort I’d assume one would experience by a fireplace on a snowy winter night. I’m assuming so because its Summer, and Australia is currently going back and forth between thunderstorms and heatwaves. So, I guess if any of you are looking to write up a Christmas-themed fic in February like I have, just give all of them a listen.
> 
> \- And the most important thing: Blanket burrito Felix was conjured while I was in a blanket burrito myself. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
